


Veni Vidi Amavi

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: Ethereal, Supernatural Krisho Things [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bottom Wu Yi Fan | Kris, Falling In Love, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Smut, Top Kim Junmyeon | Suho, also Chinese gods and goddesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Junmyeon thinks no one will ever love him enough to be by him in Diyu. But of course, he had not met Yifan yet.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Series: Ethereal, Supernatural Krisho Things [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643800
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54





	Veni Vidi Amavi

**Author's Note:**

> this is that fic inspired by that [tweet](https://twitter.com/ConsultinWerew1/status/1215240499524587520)

The land is mostly barren with little to no vegetation left. Junmyeon looks around himself and woes the losses of lives but this is his job: clean up after war and death. This time, the Wen Shen were ruthless, ravaging the lands and devouring her people so quickly, in such a cruel fashion. He is not exactly sure about the curse these people bought upon themselves that earned them the wrath of Tiandi, but the ways of the God of Heaven is not something Junmyeon questions. He is simply the Purgatory King, he can only take the souls who deserve to go to Diyu and be done with it. It is not a pleasant job but he has been the King for so long, he does not even know what else is there to his existence anyway.

His part here is over but he lingers. He is not entirely sure why he does but perhaps it is the sublime sunset he gets to witness that halts him. Or maybe it is the faintest scent of flowers that confuses him. Yes, the longer he stays on the surface, the more he is aware of the lightest wave of roses and camelia coming from somewhere amidst all the corpses. 

Junmyeon frowns; maybe, he should investigate. He follows the scent and walks into the woods, which are sparse and so dead that each step that befalls the ground ends up cracking something and sending puffs of ash floating to his nose. 

Finally, he hears water, the feeble, struggling gurgle of a stream perhaps. He walks further and finds the source and he also finds something else. A patch of astounding greenery by the bank. It is not impressive as the great forests in Heaven but it still is in this deserted place—like a careless brush of paint across a desolated canvas. He crouches down and touches the grass, surprised by how soft it is under his fingertips. He smiles when he notices butterflies flitting about, resting on the white flowers. Who knew such an oasis existed in such a dreary place?

“Do you like my garden then?”

Junmyeon whips his head around and at first, he is confused. The tall man with long, black hair seems human at first but since Junmyeon can’t be seen by humans, Junmyeon finally notices the ethereal glow surrounding him and he understands this must be a deity. But, Junmyeon frowns a little, he has met them all, who is this?

The man smiles and his gums show and Junmyeon is a little transfixed by it. The man is handsome, even Junmyeon with his limited sense of beauty can understand, and his thick eyebrows and intimidating height should give him a dark, powerful aura but that smile tells another story. Junmyeon thinks he might still be powerful but it is a softer kind that erodes the hardest rocks to sand over many millennia, it is not the aggressive kind of powerful that can destroy worlds with just one step. 

The man crouches down beside him, his pure, spotless white hanfu billowing slightly. His long hair is tied up and Junmyeon is sightly jealous of the rich, almost midnight tint of it. His own flaming red hair often earns him glances and whispered remarks that were never anything nice. He unconsciously touches his hair and clears his throat, “Uh, I don’t recognise you from the pantheon.”

The man looks up and smiles again. Junmyeon feels his heart skipping a beat at that and he chooses to not think too much about it. The other says, “First, let me guess.” He rakes his gaze all over Junmyeon, “Red hair, black leather outfit, are you Yanwang?” Junmyeon slowly nods his head. “Oh! I’m Yifan by the way, Huashen is my mother.”

Junmyeon widens his eyes and slowly nods. That would explain the scent of flowers clinging to Yifan like a second skin. Huashen is the flower goddess and de facto ruler of spring and summer on this realm. He looks down at the green at his knees and asks, “Did you do this then?”

Yifan nods, his eyes sparkling, the late sun catching them and making the gold in the sky dance in his eyes. Junmyeon feels his heart skip yet another beat as he tears his gaze away. Maybe his chthonic ways have made him unable to handle such radiance, that is the only way he can explain this keen ripple of attraction humming under his skin. He touches the grass again and mumbles, “So, this land still has hope?”

Yifan looks behind him and Junmyeon knows he is thinking about the death and destruction due to the famine and plague. He slowly says, “Perhaps. Everything that ends shall begin again and everything that begins has to end. What are we but stuck in an eternal cycle? Life and death walk hand in hand,” he looks at Junmyeon and smirks, “Not against each other as everyone likes to think.”

Junmyeon finds himself smiling and feeling an intense connection to the man in front of him. He often only hears curses and odiums on how much they do not want him there because he symbolises death. But he is never responsible for it now, is he?

The sun commences further in his journey to the west and the twilight falls on them suddenly. Junmyeon looks up at the sky and mumbles, “I will have to go now.”

Yifan chuckles as he gets to his feet and dusts his hanfu. “Well, can’t keep the King of the Underworld waiting.” He bows and the slight smile still hangs on to his lips, “I hope we see each other again.”

Junmyeon’s lips part in a silent gasp. Now,  _ that  _ he has never heard in his whole immortal permanence. No one wishes to see him again because he is unclean, he is impure, he is hell. He cannot help but grin, “I hope we do, Yifan.”

The autumn solstice is near, which means Yifan would soon be faced with four months of absolute, dreadful boredom. At least with the spring and summer months, he can be out and about among the trees and flowers and help with their growth, be among them. Being the only child of Huashen sometimes is simply monotonous. 

He is in the Heavenly abode now, celebrating the days leading to the solstice. There are dance and merriment but Yifan is seeking something else. A flash of red and black leather, to be exact. He wonders where the Purgatory King went. 

Yifan knows his mother would be incensed if she ever got to know that her son has developed somewhat of a liking for the subterranean deity but Yifan couldn’t help himself. He had no idea that the Yanwang would be that handsome, that attractive, have that gentle but potent aura about him. He wanted to know more, stay around him more, understand why his smiles held so much back. He has always been scolded for his curiosity but he could not care, he wants to meet the King again.

He ambles across the halls, stepping around the massive pillars of gold and jewels. A soft harmony plays from some hidden corner and the light chatter is not jarring yet. A loud squawk attracts his attention to his left and he finds the Five Deities laughing amongst themselves. One of them, Baidi waves at him, grinning, “Ah, why does the young look so lost?”

Yifan grins, walking up to them, “Nothing, nothing, just lost in my own head, I suppose.”

Another of the deities, Cangdi pipes in, “Or maybe he is not amused by what we ancients like!”

Yifan flushes a little, feeling horrible because he is now caught between a rock and a hard place. The festivities become less and less amusing to him after each rotation of the earth around the sun. But he knows he cannot say such a thing to the Five Manifestations of the Highest Deity. However, he sees something out of the corner of his eyes and he bows, “Uh, excuse me, I think I just saw someone I wanted to meet.” He straightens up and grins, “And the festivities are great ancient ones!”

He rushes off because he thought he had seen a redhead floating in the distance, by the corridor that takes one deeper into the Palace. He turns a corner and he is grinning widely when he realises he was right. He says, “Yanwang!”

The red-haired deity turns around and he breaks into a wide smile himself. He meets Yifan halfway and says, “I was wondering if you’d be here.”

Yifan smiles, his hand over his heart, which is beating loud and fast in an erratic rhythm he has never experienced before. The Purgatory King has swapped his plain black leather robes for a black silk one and it has fire embroidered in them with golden threads and bright red gems. His startling hair is tied atop in a bun and Yifan cannot help but be in silent awe of the shape of King’s forehead and jaw. “Of course, I would be.”

The noise of celebration suddenly peaks and they both turn their heads to look at it. The Yanwang clears his throat, “Would you like some silence? I was going to look for my own.”

Yifan agrees and they begin walking. The King informs him to call him Junmyeon, his given name. Even though he is known by many names, Yifan learns he likes this one the best. They find a smaller garden and they sit down on a bench, talking more about the eternal cycle.

Yifan asks, “Do you ever get tired? I mean, tired of the eternal aspect of it all?”

Junmyeon sighs, his fingers curling on his knees. “I am, I always have been but I know this is my duty. It, it just gets lonely down there at times.”

Yifan tilts his head, his chest suddenly constricting in a strange way. “Why? Is it just you?”

Junmyeon scoffs, but this beautiful smile contains a deep, aged melancholy and the depth of it makes Yifan upset. Junmyeon then says, “Me and my lonesome.”

Yifan tries to do something, change that look on the other’s face. He gently knocks his shoulder into the other’s and says, “Why doesn’t the King take a queen of his own? Or another king, whatever he wants.” He tries to not hold on to hope yet he realises how his voice turns the slightest tone of wistful. 

Junmyeon turns to look at him, his eyes still holding that deep sorrow and Yifan feels like he just might drown in it. Heaven is always filled with a golden glow and as that melts into those brown eyes, he whispers, “And who would willingly walk into Diyu to be at my side?”

Yifan does not think ahead as he blindly reaches for Junmyeon’s hand. He curls his fingers around Junmyeon’s wrist and says, “Fools then. You’re not Death, you just collect what Death leaves behind.” He squeezes tenderly, “I don’t like how most deities look at you, look at you like you’re something vile, unholy.”

Junmyeon feels the pinprick of tears on the back of his eyes. No one, in a long,  _ long  _ time has said anything this kind to him. He looks away from Yifan’s face, the naked sincerity in his dark eyes make him nervous but in the dangerous way as he mumbles, “Yifan, I, thank you. You’re too kind to say such things.”

The grip remains and Junmyeon makes no move to push it away. “And I mean them Junmyeon.”

They change the topic and Yifan asks some questions about Diyu that Junmyeon carefully answers. Yifan widens his eyes as he leans closer, “Seriously? There are ten courts down there? Do you then oversee them all?”

Junmyeon chuckles, “I possibly couldn’t! I just look over the total part of it all. You call me King but then does the king do everything?”

Yifan nods, his lower lip jutting out, “Makes sense, I suppose.”

Yifan’s questions about the underworld do not cease and it pleases Junmyeon to see how the other wants to truly learn, understand. It touches some part in his heart and it warms his whole body up. Yifan still has a loose hold over his wrist, so he pries it off and traces the long, slender fingers. He whispers, “You have beautiful hands Yifan.” He spreads his own beside and grins, “Mine look so ridiculous!”

Yifan looks down and he would suppose they do look ridiculous because Junmyeon’s hands are smaller than his. He takes Junmyeon’s hand in his and smiles, “Look, the gap between your knuckles and nails are so meagre!”

Junmyeon presses his lips, pouting slightly as he says, “Yes, I am aware.”

Yifan chuckles and he misses how Junmyeon drinks that up, his eyes wide and with his lips parted. Yifan then starts discussing the other pantheon members and times moves on. Before they both realise, dusk has fallen and Junmyeon notices it first. He murmurs, “It’s late. We should go.” 

Junmyeon gets to his feet before Yifan can, so the latter grabs his hand and he asks, “When can we meet again?”

Junmyeon widens his eyes. “You want to, you want to see me  _ again _ ?”

Yifan pouts, wondering why he sounds like he does not believe him. “Yes, is that wrong?”

Junmyeon swallows, “What about your mother? She doesn’t like me very much.”

Yifan shrugs, smirking, “That’s her problem.”

Junmyeon chuckles, “Alright.” He scratches his head, “Maybe you can send me a message? I have no parental figure around me, so I would not need to explain anything to anyone.”

Yifan smiles widely, his heart throbbing in excitement, “And you will come when I call? Whenever and wherever I call?”

Junmyeon smiles a little, “Yes, perhaps.”

Yifan stands up and he is grinning widely as he says, “Then, I will send you a songbird and if you return the bird back with one bay leaf, I will know you are free to see me and if not, then I will know you are not!”

Junmyeon cannot help but grin back, tilting his head back, “Alright.”

Huashen is humming and Yifan is silent as he trails after his mother. They are trying to bless the lands the drought and famine ravaged. Huashen usually does this on her own but ever since Yifan started showing more and more of his powers, she started dragging him along. Yifan does not mind it much but he wishes he was somewhere else.

It has been ten days since he has seen Yanwang. And it has all been due to his mother wanting sow the seeds for spring before winter officially arrives. The weather is cool, not cold enough and it reminds him of the last time he met Junmyeon.

_ “Tell me, is it hot in hell?” Yifan asks as he lies down on the grass. _

_ Junmyeon laughs as he crosses his legs and looks down at Yifan. “Not really. The first three or four levels are actually cool and comfortable. It’s where the souls truly go that burns. I and my demons don’t really live in extremely hot temperatures.” _

_ Yifan frowns, jutting his lower lip out, “Then why do the humans always draw you surrounded by angry flames?” _

_ Junmyeon shrugs as he lies down beside Yifan, “Maybe because that is how everyone sees hell—as all the undesirable things amalgamated into one. Heat, sin, blood, disease, debase things and everything grotesque.” _

_ Yifan turns his head around and heart softens first at how accepting Junmyeon is of the hideous perception everyone has of him. Then, his heart quickens when he looks at the side profile crafted by a divine hand, at the deep, bright red of his hair contrasting against his pale, sun-deficit skin. He does not know how things are grotesque are in Diyu, he does know the king is beautiful—perhaps, the most beautiful being he had ever seen. _

_ Junmyeon notes the silence and he turns his head, his eyebrows tilted as Yifan keeps staring. “Yifan?” _

_ Yifan feels his face warming up as he coughs, “Nothing, nothing. So, tell me, do you have a palace down there?” _

The sun is setting by the time Huashen is done. Yifan looks at the skies changing colours from orange to red to violet and he smiles. The vibrancy of the red reminds him of someone and he feels how much he misses him, right there in the pang in his heart. __

The palace of the King in Diyu is a sombre affair, a total antonym to the gold and brightness in the palace up there in Heaven. The walls and floor are made from basalt and granite. The lamps glow a deep red and sometimes a light yellow at times, or even a blue—Junmyeon does not question his housekeeping staff. He supposes it has to do with whatever magical fuel they are using. Days and nights are hard to understand when you live in a cave, so the ever-changing colours of the lights let Junmyeon know what time of the day it is. 

Right now, the lights are glowing red, so it means it is deep twilight outside. A songbird had flitted into his court some hours ago and he had to return the little thing without a bay leaf in its beak. Junmyeon was crushed and still is, as he tries to pay attention to the incessant droning of his ministers. He could not have avoided this meeting even though deep down, he wishes he could have just so he could spend some time with Yifan on the mortal realm. 

“But! Your Highness!” A demon roars and Junmyeon is forced to come back to his realm and not think about how Yifan’s hair smells like summer. He pays attention as the demon continues, “The fifth circle does  _ not  _ have the right to take these souls! They are ours!”

Junmyeon resists the urge to roll his eyes and sits up straighter in his throne. The crown of bones and rubies feels ten times heavier today on his head as he shakes his head and scowls at the demon from the fifth circle, “Bat, do you have any say on your behalf? You know, the whole court knows, souls from disasters by Nature must go to the second circle. Their individual sins do  _ not  _ count if Tiandi themself takes those lives. Return them or else you face grave punishment Bat.”

Bat, now slightly mollified and nods his head. Junmyeon dismisses his court next and sighs when the room empties out. He gets down from his throne and moves towards his inner chambers. He hears two servants scurrying after him but he turns around and dismisses them with a small smile. He wishes to be alone right now. He wishes to sneak to the surface and try to find a way to see Yifan. It has been too long and he knows the other deity was busy helping his mother, so this meeting was important and Junmyeon feels awful now for turning the invitation back. They have met many times as the solstice closes and winter flirts with the winds. They mostly meet on earth and Junmyeon wants to know why his heart fights like a caged bird in his chest when he finds Yifan waiting for him, smiling down at him. 

He knows they never meet in the dark but he has no other option. Yifan must be worried, he can’t stop thinking about him as he heads towards the surface dressed in much plainer robes than the ones he wears for court. He exchanged his gold and back hanfu for a simpler grey one. He couldn’t do anything about his bright hair, so he put a hood over it. To his surprise, it is raining outside, not a lot, just a little drizzle and he stares at the water droplets hitting the granite rocks around him, transfixed. It doesn’t rain a lot here in Tai during this season, so he is surprised. 

He whistles and he hears an owl hooting back. Well, not a smaller bird, but it will do. He extends his arm and the owl lands on it, its claws not a bother on the leather cuffs Junmyeon wears. Junmyeon strokes the soft feathers and whispers into the bird’s ear, “Go find Yifan, the child of spring and flowers. Tell him, the King calls.”

The owl hoots once, as if understanding the King and flies off into the night. Junmyeon decides to go wait by the lake they often meet by. It is at some distance from the entrance to Diyu but Junmyeon can warp time and space to his own will, so he gets there in no time. 

Autumn has fallen completely on this realm and the erstwhile green trees are now yellow and red, like a bonfire under the half-moon’s light. Junmyeon sits down by the lake’s edge and waits. And he only waits for half an hour when he hears the soft patter of horse hooves landing on the fallen leaves. Junmyeon looks behind him to find Yifan rushing towards him, his hair loose, the outer jacket of his hanfu missing and a worried expression on his face. Junmyeon gets to his feet, smiling but Yifan surprises him by throwing his arms around Junmyeon and pulling him into his embrace.

The scent of summer is so strong that if Junmyeon closed his eyes, he could pretend the season is not autumn right now. A wind picks up and Yifan’s hair blows into his face. Junmyeon sighs a little and puts his arms around Yifan’s waist and presses his lips into Yifan’s shoulder, murmuring, “Are you alright?”

Yifan grumbles, “I thought you weren’t. You have never called me and that too, you call me first so late at night!”

Junmyeon chuckles a little and rubs Yifan’s lower back as he marvels at how soft the other’s hair is. He bites down on the urge to press a kiss to Yifan’s ear as he assures the other, “I am sorry, I just, I just…” 

Junmyeon finds himself unable to utter his true intention. Yifan pulls back and smiles softly, watching with amusement as Junmyeon’s cheeks colour. “Did the King of Purgatory miss me?”

Junmyeon cannot look at Yifan directly. It is like staring directly at the sun and even if Junmyeon had seen the most intense of heaven’s light, Yifan’s smile is brighter than that, blinding him almost. Junmyeon takes a step back but he does not remove his hands on Yifan’s waist as he says, “I have.”

The rain suddenly increases in its intensity and Yifan yelps a little before pulling Junmyeon along to take shelter under a tree. Yifan manipulates the branches to make a cover and he laughs, “I missed you too, actually.”

Junmyeon looks up finally and he notices the pink in Yifan’s cheeks too. He looks away again in embarrassment, even though he shares it with Yifan. He feels a tug on his sleeve and he sees Yifan on the ground, tugging him to sit down beside him. Junmyeon follows and he sees the ground is still dry—maybe Yifan did something there. Junmyeon is surprised again when Yifan puts his head on Junmyeon’s shoulder and says, “Tonight is rather beautiful, isn’t it?” He turns his head and puts his chin on the shoulder, “And who was that owl? She was rather wonderful, I almost wanted to keep her.”

Junmyeon smiles and tries to stop his heart from beating too loud at the proximity of Yifan’s face to his. Did Yifan always have such long eyelashes? Were his lips always this full and soft? Was his skin always this smooth and golden? Did his hair always look this soft and dark, reflecting blue light as if there were stars caught up in it too? Junmyeon swallows, his tongue tying in his mouth.

Yifan watches Junmyeon looking at him and he smiles. The hood has slipped off Junmyeon’s head and the wisps of red hair frame his face, making him look ethereal. He does not know where he gets the courage from but he leans in a bit closer and presses his lips against Junmyeon’s mole above his lips. 

Junmyeon gasps a little and Yifan moves back, suddenly shy. He puts some distance between them but Junmyeon grabs his face and asks, his own eyes wide, “Yifan? Why did you do that?”

Yifan does not meet Junmyeon’s eyes and mutters, “Am I not allowed to?”

The question hangs heavy in the air. The only sound is the patter of rain on the leaves and the sound of their breaths—Junmyeon’s heavy, panicked one and Yifan’s broken one. Junmyeon swallows but his heart thuds harder, louder. He does not know how to answer it, so he leans in instead and presses his lips against Yifan’s fully.

It is a light, chaste kiss and when Junmyeon pulls back, he says, “You are, you are allowed everything, even if the world at large would not allow us.”

Yifan feels his eyes watering up. Even in Junmyeon’s admission of their mutual feelings, he can sense the hurt, the sadness and he cannot hold back. He throws his arms around Junmyeon and crushes the other to his chest. He says, “I do not care, I do not care. I know I have given my heart to you and I do not want it back.”

Junmyeon takes a shuddering breath and presses his whole face into Yifan’s neck. “Oh, Yifan. My heart is yours too, I think I gave it away the moment I saw you.” He leans back and cups the side of Yifan’s face. The other’s shining eyes makes his own eyes fill, “You are like light, air, everything perfect and beautiful, how could I not want you?”

Yifan swallows and shuts his eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. He opens his eyes and smiles, “You are beautiful too, you know. I see it, even if you cannot, I see it. I want you too.”

Their lips meet again and it is not sure who moves in first but it does not matter. The darkness has fallen for the light and the light needed the darkness. The world could not do anything about this. 

Junmyeon thinks this must be a spell he is under, even though as a deity, no one else can enchant him. But Yifan has enchanted him and he wonders what kind of magic is that. Yifan is everything Junmyeon is not associated with: light, purity, life. He is like the sunshine, birdsong, flowers and the gentle wind in a solid yet divine form. Junmyeon thinks that is the magic perhaps. The law of opposites attracting. Junmyeon finds a bird flitting around his underground chambers every other day and like clockwork, he drops everything and rises to the surface to see Yifan, to spend any amount of time with him and cherish his company. There was a long stretch of days when he could not meet Yifan and it was so utterly soul-crushing that Junmyeon had nothing to compare it with. 

Then, that magical night happened and they have not looked back. Yifan is  _ his _ in a way that is not possessive, but in a way that also makes Junmyeon Yifan’s. 

Right now, they are by a lake slowing freezing over. Yifan found a patch of earth and decided to make flowers sprout from it and is currently weaving those flowers through Junmyeon’s hair. On Yifan’s bequest, he had to unravel his knotted braid and let it cascade down his back. Yifan had used the word “beautiful” for his red hair and Junmyeon had pretended that it hadn’t affected him, warmed his body and sent his heart careening out of his being.

Yifan hums a song as he ties another flower to Junmyeon’s hair. When he deems is satisfactory, he says, “There.”

Junmyeon is not sure what Yifan was doing but with Yifan’s insistence, he takes a look into the lake, catching his reflection on the water’s surface. Yifan had parted sections of his hair and put the small white flowers in them, then took those sections and braided it across his crown. Junmyeon chuckles, “I didn’t know you could get so creative with hair! This is lovely!”

Yifan grins and the high points of his cheeks are red due to the compliment. He pulls his knees together and says, “But you’re lovelier.”

Junmyeon shakes his head and kneels in front of him. “No, I think you are, to be honest.”

Yifan chuckles and reaches forward, cupping Junmyeon’s face and squeezing it he says, “No! No, you’re!”

Junmyeon laughs and he tries to release himself but it is of no avail and somehow in struggling to be released, he ends up getting tangled further with Yifan and before he can tell or fathom, he is lying under Yifan. They both pant, their smiles still on their faces. However, when they both realise the position they are in, their smiles slowly fade.

Junmyeon cannot look away from Yifan’s lips. They always promise something enticing with how plump and pink they are and Junmyeon just kept ignoring. So, when he catches Yifan looking at his mouth, he throws caution to the wind again, grabs the other’s neck and pushes his head down to press their lips together.

_ And dear the heavens, the hells, and all the realms from here to there, nowhere to somewhere. _

It is like a fire consumes him whole, it is a part of him returns to the water where creation began from, it is like every part of him that once belonged to a dead star is alive again. Yifan’s lips are softer than a petal and the scent of jasmines fills every corner of Junmyeon’s lungs as they kiss. His heart is threatening to fly out of his chest and Yifan’s warm body covering him feels  _ right _ , like it belongs there, like Yifan belongs  _ right  _ there in his arms. He has been waiting,  _ wanting _ . He cards his fingers through Yifan’s hair, curling them around his nape, making sure Yifan does not go anywhere but with the way the other kisses, Junmyeon knows he would not.

Yifan kisses back with fervour, with his own need pouring into every sensual brush of his lips, into every gentle nip of his teeth on Junmyeon’s lips. This kiss is different, deeper, more physical than Yifan can remember (but then again, they have only kissed three more times before this). His mouth blooms like a cut, he feels like his whole body was useless before this kiss and now his whole being tears at the corner as Junmyeon steals his breath. Who was he before this? He was like a vessel in the night with no wind in his sails and no saltwater beneath him. Junmyeon hoisted him, rigged him,  _ chose  _ him. His nerves are turned on and he can hear them like musical instruments and he wonders if Junmyeon can hear them too. There was only silence before but now there are strings, drums playing. Junmyeon did this and they have stepped into the fire.

Yifan pulls back first for air and as he gazes down at Junmyeon ruby-bruised lips, slick with saliva and in his eyes, they are like a million blazing dying stars jumped into them, Yifan inhales and drops his head on Junmyeon’s chest. He can hear the drums in Junmyeon’s heart and he smiles, murmuring, “You will make quite mad, my dear King.”

Junmyeon chuckles;l he cards his fingers through Yifan’s hair and says, “As if you are not driving me mad yourself, my day-star.”

Yifan smiles and wishes to hide his whole body as it warms up. Junmyeon has taken to call him “day-star” recently and he did not get it at first but now he does. To be compared to a celestial body like this makes Yifan’s head buzz, he likes it, he likes it a lot. He feels Junmyeon wrapping his arms around him and he feels happy, warm, cherished. The gentle sunlight and the low hum of Junmyeon’s breathing lulls and makes him close his eyes.

The peace does not last because some moments later, Yifan is jolted awake by the sound of rushing footsteps and Junmyeon shifting under him. Junmyeon is sitting up and Yifan rises his body, looking in askance at him. But his questions are answered when he hears his mother screams, “Yifan! Get away from him!”

Yifan whips his head around and his eyes widen when he finds his mother standing at some distance, fuming and looking like she would tear Junmyeon from limb to limb if allowed. Yifan moves instinctively and covers Junmyeon’s body with his own and quietly says, “No.”

His reply surprises both his mother and Junmyeon. Huashen reacts first and marches up to them. Yifan and Junmyeon get to their feet and Yifan grabs Junmyeon’s wrist, putting all his strength into it to ensure Junmyeon suddenly does not flee in the path of his mother’s useless rage.

Huashen grabs her son’s shoulder and tugs but Yifan does not budge. Her eyes go wide, threatening to fall out of her sockets. She hisses, “How dare you let the ruler of the unclean realm touch you?”

Junmyeon shrinks back as his face heats up in indignation. Yifan, too, is incensed at his mother’s words and he bites out, “How dare you call him that? He is not Death!”

Huashen’s fury is strong enough as the winds pick up and the trees shake. Yifan moves closer to Junmyeon and Junmyeon makes up his mind to stay strong and stay put. But the flower goddess’s wrath sends waves throughout the realms and Junmyeon is the first to notice the light falling from the heavens. His face pales, Tiandi is coming.

In a blink of an eye, the whole court of Heaven stands around them. Some gasp, some whisper when they see Yifan and Junmyeon holding each other. The King of Heaven steps forward and calls out, “Huashen, why do you make Nature bend to your will like this?”

Huashen says, gesturing wildly, “The king of hell has touched my son! I kept thinking where my son goes every other day, so today I decided to follow him today. They did lose me for a second but when I found them, they were in each other’s embrace! The audacity!”

Tiandi looks at Yifan and then at Junmyeon and he notices both of their defiant gazes. He slowly says, “Yangwang? Is this true? Are you and Huashen’s child involved?”

Junmyeon steps forward, his fingers laced through Yifan’s as he nods. He bows and says, “Yifan and I, we are lovers.”

The gasps and whispering become louder and Huashen shrieks, “How unholy!” She waves her hand towards Tiandi and says, “Please, do something!”

Tiandi’s eyes flash a bright gold as he carefully says, “I cannot punish the Yanwang since he is my equal in his realm. And I will not punish your son either. They seem to have chosen themselves, Huashen, why should you protest? They both have the right to exercise their free will.”

Huashen growls, “Why should I protest? Seriously? Yifan is not to be the Yanwang’s lover because that is wrong!”

“Why?” Yifan asks, he is now shaking in rage. He hears the winds get stronger around him and his fury manages to crack a tree in two. Junmyeon sees it and gets alarmed. He throws an arm around Yifan and tries to calm him down. Yifan inhales deeply and says, “I am not leaving him and you will not make me. I chose to be his and he chose to be mine. I will walk into Diyu myself with him by my side.”

Huashen widens her eyes, finding it hard to believe her son’s rebellion. She slowly says, “If you chose to go into Diyu with him, I will make all flowers die.” She turns towards Tiandi and says, “If you allow this—”

The King of Heaven says, “I can punish you for that.” He gazes at the Purgatory King and says, “I think, there is something we can do.” He looks at Yifan next and says, “One cycle has four seasons, two you spend with your mother and two with Yanwang. How about that?”

Huashen is angry at it but her reply is halted when Junmyeon speaks up, “I agree to that.” He raises Yifan’s hand with his and holds Yifan’s burning gaze as he kisses each knuckle and says, “If you want me, I want you too. Be mine, Yifan.”

Yifan smiles and for a moment, the audience around them does not matter as he murmurs, “I’m already yours.”

When divine beings get married, it is a massive event. Mount Tai has been chosen as the place for the ceremony. The day is cold and crisp but no one is bothered by it. The demons stand by the heavenly bodies and Junmyeon is highly amused at this juxtaposition. Yet, he is thankful his demons came to the surface all cleaned up and dressed up nicely. The chanting and prayers are still ongoing and Junmyeon has his hand clasped tightly by Yifan, who is seated beside him dressed in red from head to toe just like Junmyeon is. 

There are confetti on every tree and lighted orbs flitter in between the leaves, suffusing the whole area in a gentle, pure glow. The wood nymphs sing a song, filled with love and happiness and Yifan feels it in his heart. The ceremony is coming to a close and Huashen starts weeping. Yifan rolls his eyes at his mother’s antics and Junmyeon smiles a little, squeezing his hand. The golden curtains around them flutter in the breeze once and now they are wedded. 

Yifan and Junmyeon look at each other and their grins match. They get a few more days together before the new cycle begins, so Junmyeon swears to himself to make the most of it. As they get to their feet and all their guests congratulate them and heap them with gifts, Junmyeon takes many glances at Yifan, awed by the way Yifan glows tonight. His hair is done up, twisted at the top with an ornate golden nightingale resting against his crown, the rest of it falls freely to his waist. The hanfu he wears is rich with embroidery of flowers and birds, and the shade is a bright vermillion red. Junmyeon decides he loves the colour red on his lover—no, husband from today.

Yifan too cannot stop staring at Junmyeon and feeling excited and nervous all at once. Junmyeon chose a deeper red, a deep pomegranate red with golden threads making small swirls and leaves. His fiery red hair is quite like his own, decorated with a crescent moon on his crown today and he looks so handsome, Yifan does not want to look away. 

The palace of the Yanwang is the place for the after-ceremony celebrations. This would be Yifan’s first time here and he is excited. He does not know where to look first, at the pillars of gleaming jet stones or at the intricately carved throne Junmyeon sits on. There is a new throne too besides it and Yifan realises with a timid enthusiasm that it is  _ his _ . He is the one who has taken the place beside the King in Diyu. He thinks back to their second meeting and he blushes.

The floors are a gleaming burgundy colour, inlaid with veins of gold running through the sides. The walls have murals too and it tells the story of how Diyu was created and how the Yanwang came to be. Yifan wants to stay, linger and take it all in but he guesses he will have time later on. Junmyeon gently grasps his elbows and nods towards the raised area where the thrones rest. Yifan suppresses his very obvious glee but Junmyeon sees right through it and grins. They lace their fingers again as they walk down the plush black carpet.

Time flows, so do the food and drinks and Junmyeon never thought he would see the Five Manifestations frolic with his demons, but here he is, or rather they are. It is not unwelcome and everyone loses their inhibitions a little. Yifan leans into him, his lips brush against Junmyeon’s ear as he chuckles, “Is the pestilent demon trying to flirt with one of the Five?”

Junmyeon turns his head slightly and smiles, “Now, that is a sight I thought I would never see.”

Yifan smiles too and he presses a chaste kiss on Junmyeon’s lips and says, “Do we have to be here for long? I, I want you all to myself.”

Junmyeon feels his whole body burning up and he swallows thickly when he sees how Yifan becomes coquettish. He hoods his eyes and bites on his lip, the high points of cheeks now tinted bright pink. Junmyeon slowly says, his own voice now laden with craving, “Soon, my beloved, soon.” He squeezes Yifan’s hand in his and leans back in his throne. He feels his own face heating up when he remembers tonight is their wedding night, their first time together in  _ their  _ chambers. His heartbeat increases in anticipation and he now wonders how impolite it would be to just tell everyone in the crowd to go to their respective abodes so he can finally make love to his newly-wedded spouse. 

His wish is fulfilled some moment later—some agonising moments later. Huashen makes somewhat of a scene as she goes and Yifan struggles to calm his mother. Tiandi’s words can never be overturned, everyone knows that, yet Huashen still harbours the thought that the Yanwang would try to reverse it and keep her son prisoner here forever. Yifan almost raises his voice when his mother uses that word but Junmyeon grabs his wrist at that moment and starts gently rubbing circles on the inside, on his thudding pulse and he quietens. 

Soon, it is just them and the servants there. Junmyeon’s advisor, Zhan, walks up to them and bows, “Your Highness, your chambers are ready.” He then turns to Yifan and bows again, smiling widely, “And to our new King, as you requested this morning, we have prepared baths for you two as well.” 

Junmyeon throws a confused look at his husband but Yifan just smirks and tells Zhan, “Thank you advisor Xiao. You can escort the Yanwang, I will find someone to escort me as well.”

Zhan scoffs, “Do not fret, I come prepared.” He snaps his fingers and a lower demon apparates. “She will take you.”

Zhan and Junmyeon have known each other for a long time, so their bond is far less formal than expected. Yifan is not really privy to it yet so it does surprise him when Zhan winks at Junmyeon and puts his hand on Junmyeon’s elbow to drag him away. The demon too gestures at Yifan to follow, and when they are alone in a corridor, he asks, “What is your name?”

The demon answers, “It is Sooyoung, Your Highness.”

“Have you been here for long?”

Sooyoung nods, smiling slightly, “I have been here for a long time.” Her smile widens slightly, “It is nice to see the Yanwang chose someone for himself. The palace has not been this lively in forever. Welcome to Diyu, Your Highness.”

Yifan feels himself blushing; he might have forgotten that marrying Junmyeon makes him the companion king to Diyu as well, so his sudden royal status may need some time to get used to. He clears his throat and says, “Thank you.” He walks down the dimly lit corridor and the walls have carvings on it, of more legends and monsters. He suddenly asks, “Sooyoung, what is your king like?”

Sooyoung takes a deep breath and tilts her head to the side, “Kind, that is what the Yanwang is, first and foremost. But he is also very firm and he is never afraid to punish those who deserve it. His Highness has a very resolute sense of justice.”

Yifan smiles, he knows even more than before now that he has made the right decision.

Junmyeon was forced into the bath by Zhan, almost pushed, and then he was given a new robe and outfit, which confused him but Zhan promised it was just a wedding gift from someone to the Yanwang. Then, when he was done, he was ushered into his chamber where he noticed two things: one, where did these all scented candles come from? And two, the lack of Yifan in the room, or on the bed with the black silk sheets, was fairly apparent. Where was his husband? 

Junmyeon, in the meantime, picks at the robe and wonders who gave it to him. It is in black silk with intricate embroidery all around the hem. Bejewelled flowers of lotus and jasmine dot golden threads of branches and swirls. It is stunning, Junmyeon would not deny that but who could have given it to him? The hanfu under is simpler, a plain red one, so he is certain this robe is the gift and not the outfit. He inspects the sleeves now and the design here is a little different, less dense, more sporadic with the dandelions and petals floating in it. 

“Do you like it, my dear Yanwang?”

Junmyeon turns around when he hears Yifan’s voice. There is a screen behind him that divides his inner chamber from the outer chamber and Yifan stands by it, smiling with an all-knowing glint in his eyes. But then he notices the sheer red shan Yifan is wearing over his red ku and his throat perhaps dries a little. Yifan steps further into the light and Junmyeon learns there are faint strands of gold running through the whole shan, and he has never seen anything more beautiful before that moment. 

Junmyeon closes the distance and he smirks, “I am taking this came from you, then?”

Yifan smiles widely and reaches out to touch the lapel of Junmyeon’s shan. He nods, “Yes, you would be right.”

Junmyeon puts his hands on Yifan’s waist and pulls him closer. He kisses the side of Yifan’s neck and murmurs, “Thank you, it is lovely.” Then, he leans back and looks down at the red fabric resting on Yifan’s body and he shakes his head, his voice dropping to a whisper, thick and syrupy, “But you’re a vision, my day-star.” 

Yifan blushes as he puts his hands on Junmyeon’s shoulders. Junmyeon glows in the light, the subtle red hue meshing so well with his red hair, wet and slicked back. He cups Junmyeon’s neck and says nothing as he smiles at his husband, his king, the ruler of his heart. Junmyeon too, says nothing and simply smiles, his eyes glimmering as the candlelight falls into them. Yifan inhales deeply and leans down, Junmyeon meets him halfway. 

It is gentle, soft, just tender brushes of lips, an act of affirmation that they have come so far and here they are. Junmyeon’s grip on Yifan’s waist is strong but not overbearing and Yifan’s arms around Junmyeon’s shoulders rests with no urgency. But then Junmyeon moves his hand, mapping Yifan’s back, his skin brushes over the fabric and the heat seeps into Yifan’s skin and he shivers. He nips at Junmyeon’s lip in response and Junmyeon smiles before licking across from seam to seam. Yifan gasps and parts his lips, letting Junmyeon delve in, tangled and electric. Junmyeon kisses him slowly, sweetly, tenderly. Yifan melts into it, into his mouth and in his arms.

Junmyeon turns them around and moves their bodies till the back of Yifan’s knees hit the bed. Yifan lies down and lets Junmyeon crawl over him, cover him with his body. The Yanwang smiles as he takes Yifan’s hand and kisses each fingertip, each knuckle, even the inside of his wrist. Yifan shivers again and clamps his teeth over his lower lip. There is a low simmer of want in his whole body and it suddenly makes his heart pound, making his blood rush wildly in his veins. 

“May I?” Junmyeon asks as he sits back, his knees on either side of Yifan and his hand resting on Yifan’s sternum. Yifan nods his head and Junmyeon unties the wraps and places his hand right above Yifan’s thudding heart. His fingers map Yifan’s skin in shapes that etch lightning all across.

Junmyeon looks at how blown Yifan’s pupils are, how they almost glimmer a dark gold in yearning, in desire, for  _ him _ . He cannot help himself when he leans down and captures Yifan’s lips. He cannot hold himself back as he nudges Yifan’s lips apart and delves in, making a tangled, burning mayhem of everything. His hands move, pushing the shan aside, cupping more eager, warm skin that jumps under his touch. He moves his mouth too, lower and lower as the scent of spring and summer and the heat fills his senses. He scrapes his teeth over Yifan’s neck, collarbones, nipping and marking as he goes. He wraps his mouth around a nipple, kissing it, teasing it till he can feel a harsh tug in his hair. He undoes the wraps on the pants Yifan wears and pulls it down. Yifan gasps a little, perhaps suddenly surprised by it but Junmyeon does not let him think about anything else as he keeps kissing every inch of his body. 

It tickles Yifan, makes him flinch but it feels  _ nice _ . Junmyeon sinks his teeth into his sensitive flesh, making more marks, making him  _ his _ completely. Yifan shivers some more, eager, anticipating, his muscles flexing. He is already so hard and wanting but he waits, he does not wish to beg,  _ yet _ . But then, he feels velvety warmth surround his throbbing member and he moans, “Junmyeon!”

Junmyeon cannot speak of course, but he smiles around Yifan’s cock as he bobs his head and swallows each inch. He takes it slow, achingly so and Yifan is shaking, his back arching. He whispers, “Junmyeon, Junmyeon, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon does not receive prayers but he thinks the way Yifan takes his name is akin to one. He is hot and heavy in his mouth and Junmyeon wants him to feel good, so he picks up a faster rhythm and then licks around the tip, the root, on the pulsing vein. His mouth moves lower and lower still and Yifan’s back arches off the bed at the first swipe of Junmyeon’s tongue. A hand tugs in his hair again and the other grasps the sheets. Yifan chants Junmyeon’s name again, almost sobbing as Junmyeon pushes in with his tongue, “Junmyeon, Junmyeon,  _ please _ .”

Junmyeon pulls apart at the cheeks to push in deeper, sucking at the thin skin. He hears another plead and he considers for a moment. He does want Yifan to come first, so he removes his mouth and straightens up, smiling, wrapping his hand around Yifan’s cock, “It’s alright, it’s alright.”

Yifan sobs and as the fingers move, squeezing, brushing, he comes, coating his stomach with white. But Junmyeon is not done, and Yifan hopes he is not. He reaches out and says, “Kiss me.”

Junmyeon listens and covers Yifan with his body as he takes all of his breath away. Yifan bends his legs and Junmyeon smiles against his lips as his hand moves down the back of his thigh, squeezing the supple muscle and liking how Yifan quivers. He rubs his thumb over the twitching hole and Yifan gasps, his nails digging into Junmyeon’s nape. He summons the jar of oil towards him from the table beside. He knows one of the servants put it here and he is so grateful right now—he has never felt so delirious with  _ want _ .

Yifan braces himself as the first finger breaches, sinking inside him. He shuts his eyes and bites down his lip, flexing his fingers on Junmyeon’s shoulders. He feels Junmyeon plant soft, comforting kisses all over his thigh, chest and neck. He adds another finger and then another, soon Yifan is just a moaning, thrashing mess. Junmyeon drinks the sight in; the flushed face, twisted in pleasure, the bitten lips, the chest heaving, the delicate tremors wracking Yifan’s whole body. Junmyeon mutters, “You’re so perfect, my day-star. I don’t understand how I got so fortunate.”

Yifan opens his eyes and smiles, “You’re the best thing that has happened to me, my love.”

Junmyeon smiles, swallowing that knot of jumbled emotions in his throat. He curves over and captures Yifan’s lips, devouring them, taking as much as he gives, hoping, praying Yifan understands all the words he cannot string along to say to him. Yifan groans and clasps his fingers into Junmyeon’s hair. Then, Junmyeon breaks the kiss and their breaths mingle as he whispers, “Do you think you can—”

Yifan nods, “Yes, yes,  _ please _ .”

Junmyeon rushes to coat himself with the sticky, slightly sweet-scented oil. He pulls Yifans knees higher, positions himself and deliberately, gently sinks in. Yifan chokes on a moan and his eyes squeeze shut, his neck thrown back. Junmyeon leans closer, kissing on Yifan’s thudding pulse, whispering as he pushes deeper, “Are you okay?”

Yifan presses his face into Junmyeon’s neck and wraps his legs around Junmyeon’s waist, exhaling, “Just, just give me a moment.”

“Alright, alright,” Junmyeon kisses the side of Yifan’s face and murmurs kind words into his heated skin. The sweat on Yifan’s temple made the hair stick to it and Junmyeon gently swipes the hair and kisses over his eyebrows, his eyelids, his nose and finally his lips. Yifan parts his lips and their tongues brush against each other. Yifan indolently sucks on Junmyeon’s lower lip and whispers, “Move now.”

Junmyeon nods and gradually pulls back, halfway before shoving back in. Yifan gasps and soon, he gets incoherent as Junmyeon picks up the pace. The drag of it, the thickness of it, the overwhelming fire of it all—it burns him inside out. 

Junmyeon likes it, likes how their bodies glide against each other in a slick, hot rhythm. It is quite the new thing, all muscles and nerves, feeling, electric and  _ too much _ . Junmyeon can feel the faint earthquakes of Yifan’s muscles around him, under him—the trembling smoothness that Junmyeon wants to kiss over and over again. Junmyeon strokes Yifan’s cock, slowly, the shocking firmness and throbbing in his hand, wet with his own impending end. Junmyeon loves the thrill of Yifan under him, he does. 

In the room’s intimate half-darkness, Yifan holds Junmyeon as Junmyeon holds him. He breathes Junmyeon in, pulling him closer, leaving no space between their bodies that are now hot, humid, shaking. Junmyeon is hard, demanding inside him when he thrusts and he sees stars behind his eyes when he closes them and his voice does not sound like his own. The drums in his heart beat louder and louder, drowning everything else, even the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. His nails sink into soft flesh, his legs spasm and Junmyeon’s slow strokes makes the drumbeats so  _ loud _ . His whole body sings, hum, burns before he comes again with a loud sob. He is shaking as he overfills Junmyeon’s hand and coats the front of his body. Junmyeon moves faster,  _ faster _ , and now only the sound of skin hitting skin can be heard. It is perhaps indecent, filthy, but Yifan does not care. He opens his eyes and his vision is blurred but he can see the sweat blooming on Junmyeon’s temple and his upper lip. Yifan pulls him down to lick the salt off and murmur against the trembling lips, “Junmyeon, Junmyeon...”

The low, viscous voice does something and Junmyeon quakes once before he releases, filling Yifan to the brim. Junmyeon groans and falls on Yifan, who collects him, kisses the side of his face all tender and loving. Junmyeon noses along Yifan’s jaw and neck, the scent of flowers now mixes with the scent of their sex. Junmyeon asks, “Are you okay?”

Yifan’s eye twinkle, even though his eyelids start drooping, “Never better, my love.”

Then, their lips meet and it is not rushed, not urgent. It is another affirmation, of love, of togetherness. Of forever.

Fifty more days, Yifan counts in his head as he sits in the study in Diyu. He is writing his thoughts out on the bounded pages before him. Junmyeon sits close by, drowning in scrolls of soul records. Yifan is not bored, he never is in Diyu. Especially now, when his very presence had changed Diyu. Flowers now bloom in the unlikeliest of places and it amuses everyone, even the demons, who turned out to be far more pleasant than what stories make them out to be. He now goes around, nourishing the plants and making everyone smile simply by his presence. His talents with flowers also attracted some younger demons, who for reason now, come to him, seeking tales from the surface and the heavens. Yifan is only too delighted to oblige. 

Junmyeon sighs and puts down his quill. Yifan takes this as the signal to shut his journal and walk up to his husband. It has been a month since their nuptials and they have not quite learned how to keep their hands to each other. So, Yifan carefully puts aside the scrolls and sits down on Junmyeon’s lap. He noses under Junmyeon’s ear and whispers, “Are you done for the day, my love?”

Junmyeon sighs again but this time it does not have the despair of the one before. He is content with Yifan’s warmth on his thigh, so he wraps his arms around his husband and says, “Kind of, but I would go insane if I look at them anymore.” He cups Yifan’s chin and grins, “Distract me? Comfort me?”

Yifan grins back, licking his lips. He is always ready to either distract or comfort his husband, but he likes to tease more, so he traces Junmyeon’s collar and says, “Oh? How would you like me to comfort you, my king?”

“Hmm,” Junmyeon knows Yifan is being playful, “I’m sure you can think of ways.”

Yifan is about to press his lips on Junmyeon’s but then a knock resounds on the door and Zhan’s voice can be heard, “Yanwang? The lord of the tenth court is here. He says it is urgent!”

Junmyeon groans and Yifan softly chuckles. He gets off from Junmyeon’s lap and pulls the king up, still grinning, “Come on now, you are, after all, the king of hell, you have your duties.”

Junmyeon pouts, lacing their fingers as they walk towards the door. “Well, at least you are going to be beside me.”

Yifan simply smiles, “Always.” 

Though the word perhaps not be enough in their case, both Junmyeon and Yifan smile when they realise that when the time comes, the separation would not change anything. They would  _ always  _ be.

Junmyeon cups his chin as he waits, gazing out towards the thick foliage and the lake peeking through the dense cover of ivy and bougainvillaea. The summer wind is pleasant and in this gazebo by the lake, he is not uncomfortable. He has his hair tied atop his head in a bun, so his neck can breathe. He wonders how long his beloved will take.

He senses Yifan before he sees him because the flowers crawling across the pillars move as if an invisible wind had picked them up. The leaves shudder, and so does Junmyeon’s heart. They cannot meet more than once in a month, so when he gets to his feet and steps out of their hidden garden, his heart pounds. There, there  _ he  _ is.

Yifan’s hair flows freely as he slides down his horse and rushes up to Junmyeon. No other words are exchanged as their lips meet. There is nothing gentle and sweet about this, it is filled with longing, their wait and the pang they feel when not around one another. Junmyeon’s palace no longer has any flowers, Yifan’s skin is touch-starved, the imprints of Junmyeon’s fingers gone. They only part when their lungs burn. Yifan murmurs against Junmyeon’s mouth, “Just seventy more days.”

Junmyeon tightens his hold around Yifan and kisses a trail down Yifan’s neck, whispering, “I know, I know, I can no longer wait, my day-star. My home no longer feels my home without you. Even the flowers you planted no longer bloom.” His voice catches. He knows they will have to do this again, and again, till time ends, but Junmyeon knows it will not get any easier. “I miss you, so, so much.”

Yifan can hear the pain in Junmyeon’s voice and he himself cannot stop his eyes welling up. He tucks his face into Junmyeon’s neck and mumbles, “I miss you too, my king. I cannot wait to come back.”

They part slightly only for Junmyeon to wrap his fingers around Yifan’s wrist to tug him towards their little concealed spot. The insides have been furnished with pillows and blankets. Yifan is on top of Junmyeon the moment they sit down, his lips back on his husband’s. Junmyeon laughs as Yifan’s restless hands tries to undo the ties on his hanfu. He puts his hand on Yifan’s impatient ones and smiles, “My love, we have time till sundown. You don’t have to rush it.”

Yifan juts his lower lip out and frowns, “My dear husband, I  _ need  _ you,” a soft press of lips, “So,” another, “So severely.”

Now, how can Junmyeon resist when his beloved implores? He shakes his head, even though he is amused, “Yifan, Yifan, you will be the death of me.”

Yifan smiles, “Glad to be.” Their lips meet again, this time their hunger and their desire pour out into it, making Yifan whimper a little and Junmyeon moans into it. His mouth moves down Yifan’s neck, his teeth grazing over the pulse and Yifan whispers, “I love you.”

Junmyeon presses his mouth under Yifan’s ear and his voice is thick like molasses as he says, “I love you.” 

Summer is at its peak but it will soon give in to cooler winds, crisper air, mellower sunshine and the whole world be on fire, coloured the shade of Junmyeon’s hair. And then, Yifan can finally come home, come home to where his heart beats. 

  
  


_ “ _ _ You showed me _

_ how a love like ours can turn _

_ even the darkest, coldest realms _

_ into the happiest of homes. _ _ ” _

**Author's Note:**

> Veni Vidi Amavi - we came we saw we loved
> 
> lines from the poem Persephone to Hades by Nikita Gill
> 
> happy Valentines' Day y'all


End file.
